Powitanie Lekarz Dear Doctor
by mysticwryter
Summary: Clarice responds to Dr. Hannibal Lecter's letter. Rate and Review please!


Dr. Lecter,

This is probably a fourth of fifth draft I've tried to construct, answering to your letter I received. To be perfectly honest I was very surprised and yet not when you wrote to me. I knew that following me whether by televised lies or by physically seeking me out through your many disguises, would promote you to write such a letter, and in such fine handwriting. The public has nothing on me and condones you to write that your public shaming is by far highest within the public's books. My father, which I will keep brief within this communication, does not concern you. I will tell that with him being a known man within the small reminisces of what is now my home town shows a respectable man. Quite the contrary with your actions that bestow you, fine doctor, as you have chewed through the confines of your own home, city and country that you must find another host to leach in the shadows so no one can find you. I think that with everything in the world Dr. Lecter, I would imagine that my capture of Gumb would not only appease my father but the entire area Kentucky and the country, for ridding of such evil that populates such a pristine town. Clearly it would not appeal to you in any matter. As a killer yourself, without the idea of someone to distract me from finding you, only makes you grow nervous for your own freedom.

My father would only seem me doing my job even with such scrutiny from tabloids that you read. I did my job. I had to choice of either dying or shooting a woman carrying her child. I chose. I shot a woman carrying a child. Not that the idea of hold a high powered weapon in her hand but the fact that I wanted to live. I knew that within the amount of time that is would be dissolved to you; you would find the common ground to ask such a question.

With the elevation of your capture and the fact of you are now under our radar, of course we would host you up onto the list with hope that we will capture you and find you back in your plastic cage. Within William Blake's own poetry, a red robin would squeak and whistle within its cage, causing his mind to rot within the cavity it now resides. Would your own mind fester within that plastic cage without your drawings of fine tapestries? Would it downgrade such an extraordinary ability to speak your expert tongue of riddles and twisters? I'm not within the record in this letter to even tell you if there's still an open case with your name on it. To find out said information, I would lose my job and will then have the ability to find you myself, in my own ways. With your withstanding retirement, where ever you are when you receive this letter, I hope that it does find you well, at least.

Your accuracy Dr. Lecter is at most correct. When I did read your letter, which I must say that the parchment you chose was rather quaint, I was bent over papers and computer screens, still trying to find that one last piece to find you. But with every advancement I make, you go three steps ahead. Within this world we play with determination and cognitive thought. I'm close to you, closer than what can be comprehended. So would that make me under the yellow lights of desks or in the sunlight watching you from afar? Would it startle you to find me at your front door, knocking gently as you stopped within your tracks, like a deer in the forest? I'm that hunter, Hannibal and I will not stop until I have my prize.

Tell me that throughout the conversations we had within the dark dismal walls of steel and concrete that you did not fancy a go with me? How it would feel to chase me rather than me chasing you? I'm not a deep roller, sir. I am a shallow roller who will find the courage to drop and soon pick myself up to carry on. Do you not propose to have that faith within yourself? The faith within me to roll out of my death drop? Choose your words wisely, doctor, for it shall reveal what is truly behind your sickness. Would it be feat of admiring me for my actions as a officer of the law, or a woman in nature?

Dear doctor, within this letter I will write that you are well and hopefully that soon you will make your move, far more advanced than what I predict as your drastic yet careless stir. And yes, it is time for you to come out and play. I'm not the mouse that you perceive that you can chase forever.

I will find you and bring you to justice.

Regards,

Special Agent Clarice Starling, FBI.

P.S. With the increasing rate of ambergris being removed from several countries, I didn't know that Italy would show such a wonder for the base. The lavender was a nice touch, but I'm more of musk than of a calming scent of flowers. But it was a lovely bouquet. What other surprises do you have for me, Doctor? I wait impatiently. C.


End file.
